


Painted in moonlight

by Amymel86



Series: Tumblr Prompts [14]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Daenerys is mentioned, Drabble, F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 02:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17674394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: He’d brought home armies thick with good fighting men, he’d brought home monstrous dragons with breaths of flame. He’d brought home a Queen.Drabble for a tumblr prompt





	Painted in moonlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LearaBribage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearaBribage/gifts).



> Prompt from @viridescentlights on tumblr - (ps - let me know if you have an AO3 account so I can gift this fic to you!) <3
> 
>  
> 
> _hi, amy! may i please prompt you for jonsa with these lines from paul verlaine's poem (clair de lune): "your soul is a well-chosen landscape // while singing in a minor key / Of victorious love and good life / They don't seem to believe in their own happiness / And their song mingles with the moonlight"_

The light of the pale moon slipped through the panes of her window like a welcomed friend. No longer able to abide the confines of any sort of cage, Sansa forgoes shutting her heavy velvet drapes most nights. All the better to see the stories of the stars. In King’s Landing she used to stare at that moon, whether it be fat or crescent, turning its face into the night. It comforted her to think that those same beams of light were touching the skin of her loved ones, wherever they happened to be that night.

They were bathing the form of one of them now;  _Jon._  Returned from his journey to find the aid they’d needed to cling to anything remotely like hope.

And he had.

He’d brought home armies thick with good fighting men, he’d brought home monstrous dragons with breaths of flame. He’d brought home a Queen.

Sansa had lied to him. 

He was weary, she could see that. And yet, unable to allow him to return to the sanctuary of his own chambers, the fib tipped right off the edge of her lips and here they were.  _“The nightmares have returned.”_  It was a simple falsity, all too easily spilling from her mouth. Jon knew what it meant. He knew what to do, just like he had done all those many moons ago when they’d first set eyes on each other again, unkind years leaving them much changed from their boy and girlhood spent within the walls of Winterfell.

His ephemeral smile quirked upward on one side before it was lost altogether to the solemn face of a Stark. “I’ll stay,” his voice rasped as quiet as the crackle of fire.

“Are you sure you won’t be needed?”

 _…by her?_ The two little unspoken words were not necessary, but by the stony way Jon’s features set he’d heard them nonetheless.

“I am needed here. That is more important.”

And so here they rest, with moonbeams painted across their bodies. Sansa laid beneath the furs of her bed and Jon’s supine form atop them, ready to battle the false phantoms of her nights that have long ceased to plague her sleep.

Lifting a cold delicate finger, she traced the silvery outline of his profile, gently following the slope of his nose and feeling the soft prickle of his whiskers before landing on the plump of his lower lip. Jon’s wind-chapped mouth parted, a slip of space where his hot breath could meet with her skin. As though spellbound, Sansa found herself wordlessly tracing the comely shape of his mouth with a ghostly touch, her finger almost damp from his heated exhales.

“Everything I’ve done,” he whispered, Sansa paused at the very centre of Jon’s lower lip, his words brushing against her finger, the sonorous northern rumble of his voice warming her bones, “ _everything_  I’ve done, I’ve done to keep us safe. To keep _you_  safe.”

Sansa’s hand tucked itself back beneath her goose-feather pillow. “ _Are_  we safe?”

The highlight of the moon kissed Jon’s throat as she watched him swallow. “I don’t know.”


End file.
